The Aging Titan
The wind in the Scottish Highlands does not blow. It erodes. It takes things away, slowly, patiently, the way it has been taking things away for a million years: first the soft rock, then the hard rock, then the memory of rock, until nothing is left but the wind and the heather and the silence and the men who have forgotten why they came. Alfred Mountainsplit was one of those men. He was three...
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